Cataclysm
by Fluid Consciousness
Summary: Kallian is persuaded to take up the role of Warden-Commander, as well as the new arlessa of Amarathine. Little does she know that dealing with nobles on a regular basis can be much more dangerous than even the most gruesome battle. When a series of murders threatens Amaranthine, Kallian and the other Wardens decide to investigate.
1. Nemesis

**Nemesis**

_ "One from whom there is no escape…"_

"Just…just stay away! Please, be reasonable! You don't need all of _them_, just take _me_!"

He stared down at the bride, eyes sparkling malevolently. "The more the merrier is what I always say…" His fingers brushed against her cheek, a gesture that would have been loving under ordinary circumstances. Instead it sent chills down her spine. She fought the urge to recoil in disgust. "There have been rumours about you…that you're a scrapper. A mouthy little knife-ear is what my men call you. Is that true?"

The bride swallowed thickly. "I...I honestly don't know what you're talking about. I'm just like any other elf in the Alienage." her eyes darted to and fro, seeking some form of escape. She saw Shianni's shoulders stiffen as the _shem_ continued to touch the bride with a familiarity that should have been reserved for the bride's intended. The other women surrounded Shianni, weeping and resigned to their fate. "I'm begging you, ser. Please let these women go."

The man seemed to contemplate the bride's words as he ran his thumb and index finger along her pointed ear. She was sickened by the reaction it elicited, but she couldn't help it. The heat pooled between her legs and she bit her lower lip. The man knew what he was doing to her, and he sneered. "Alright, we'll keep you and the drunk. The others will be sent back to that cesspool you knife-ears refer to as a home."

Shianni's eyes widened. "Touch me and I'll gut you, you pig!"

The bride shook her head vehemently. "Ser, please let _all_ of them go. I'm…" She inhaled deeply. "I've never lain with a man, and I guarantee the same can't be said of these other women. They're not worth your time. Let them go, and I promise you that you won't be sorry." She could see the tears glistening in Shianni's eyes. The bride looked away.

"Perhaps there is something to what you say…" he leaned forward and cupped the bride's chin. "Very well. Men, take the whores back to their pathetic little alienage. Once you've returned there should be plenty left of this pretty bride for all of us. I, of course, get to enjoy her first." The young bride stood before him, eyes downcast. As soon as the men turned to usher the women out of the room, her captor backhanded her, sending her flying to the ground. She landed on the hard wooden floor and cried out in pain. Her hip and arm began to throb almost immediately. She watched as the guards struggled to drag a writhing Shianni from the room.

"Cousin!" Shianni sobbed. "I won't let them do this to you!"

The bride glanced over at Shianni, her eyes suddenly cold and unrelenting. "Leave this place, and tell no one of what transpired." The bride turned her gaze upward to the man standing over her. "I'm yours to command, milord."

"Cousin!" Shianni shouted. "You can-" the door slammed behind her.

"You're smarter than most knife-ears," the man pointed out. "In my experiences, most of them begged for their lives…and that can become so very boring. I find you to be quite…refreshing."

The elven woman refused to meet his gaze for fear of voicing what she truly thought. "I'm glad you find me pleasing," she whispered, trying in vain to ignore the dull ache that had begun to trail from her hip to her lower leg. The man paid no heed to her discomfort and pulled her roughly to her feet, crushing her against his chest.

"So, is it true what you said?" he whispered into her ear. "You are untouched?" His tongue snaked out to suckle at her dainty earlobe. The bride simply nodded by way of reply. "Well then, I'll just have to put that to the test."

Luckily the bride knew the identity of her attacker…his face had been burned into her memory. As he ripped her wedding dress from her body, she vowed that she would be the last woman that this _shem_ would terrorize…assuming she lived through the experience. In an effort to maintain her sanity, she forced herself to visualize something more pleasant…anything to distract her from the nobleman's biting and slapping…

* * *

_"Soris…what if he doesn't find me appealing?" she asked, shifting her weight nervously. "There are much prettier girls in the Alienage…and I…well, I'm plainer than most…and from what I've heard of him, he could have his pick of any one of them."_

_"I don't think you need to worry about that, Cousin," Soris chuckled. "Besides, it's not like you're ugly."_

_She slapped her cousin playfully. "You'd better shut your mouth, you know that I'm perfectly capable of kicking your ass." Her eyes widened. "Oh shit, he probably doesn't know that I have martial training from my mom."_

_Soris sent her a sideways glance. "Oh, he knows alright."_

_Her mouth fell open. "How?"_

_"I told him…I probably shouldn't be telling you this, but you're obviously nervous about this whole thing, and you really don't need to be." He sighed and continued. "He came to the Alienage a couple of months ago. He wanted to see his promised bride. It was a daring move on his part, but he's apparently also known for his gutsy nature. Anyhow, I saw that he was a stranger, and I greeted him. He introduced himself and I knew who he was straight away. I explained that you were my cousin. He asked if you were around, and…well I played a bit of a joke on him. You see, Shianni was already half in the bag and was screaming her fool head off at the Elder. She looked a right mess, her hair all tousled, and it looked like she hadn't bathed in weeks. I pointed to her and said, 'there is your betrothed.' You should have seen his face! You know what he said? 'She's very spirited. I look forward to spending my life with her.' I could tell he was lying, but it was obvious that he was an honourable man. I patted him on the shoulder and said 'relax, I was only kidding.' His shoulders sagged with relief. He looked around a bit more, trying to pinpoint who his future wife might be. Liana was there, so I'm surprised he didn't start drooling on the spot. Only…he didn't even give her a second glance. That's when you came out of your house carrying a basket of linens. I even remember how you looked – hair pinned up in a haphazard bun, plain white linen dress, sweat beading on your forehead…you could have given Shianni a run for her money. Then I heard his sharp intake of breath. I glanced over to him, and his eyes widened. 'Please tell me that that raven haired beauty is my betrothed,' he said breathlessly. 'That she is,' I replied. 'She's…stunning,' was all he managed to utter. I do believe you walked by us at that point, and you were so close I could have reached out and touched you. You nodded to both of us and went about your duties."_

_Her eyes widened further. "That was him?"_

_"Yep. And do you know what he said when you were out of earshot? 'Her eyes…they're violet…I've never seen such a thing.' He was completely smitten. That's when I told him about your warrior training. I fully expected him to run from the Alienage screaming. Instead he said, 'strength is a necessity when you live in a world such as ours…besides, I find strong women to be quite captivating.'"_

_She felt butterflies fluttering in her stomach. "He-he said that?" She suddenly couldn't wait to meet her future husband._

* * *

"Well, what do you know? The little knife-ear was telling the truth about being a virgin," he sneered. He gazed down at the blood stained sheets. He strode over to the door and allowed his guards entry. "I'm done with her, boys. You can have your fill."

One guard licked his lips while the other glanced about worriedly. "Lord Vaughn…don't you think perhaps others may follow?"

Vaughn scoffed before exiting the room. "More little knife-ears? Please. Even if they did show up, I'm sure you could handle them." He winked at the guards and strode from the room, leaving them to gaze upon the young elf curled into the fetal position on the soiled bed.

"What-uh-what do we do with her?" Asked one guard.

"What do _you _think?" asked the other. Suddenly the sound of someone clearing his throat was heard behind the guards. They both spun around and were face to face with a young red headed elf.

"Um…hello," he said awkwardly. The bride recognized his voice immediately and sprang into action. She leapt from the bed and pounced upon the smaller of the two guards. He let out a yelp of surprise…his last dying sound before the bride snapped his neck effortlessly. The red headed elf was momentarily taken aback by the bride's viciousness, but quickly regained control of himself and aimed the crossbow he carried at the other guard, loosing several bolts into the man's face. Both guards lay on the ground in crumpled heaps.

"Thanks, Soris." The bride said softly. She wandered over to where her torn dress lay and pulled it over her head.

Soris nodded. He turned to give her privacy as she dressed, and despite the fact that his back was facing her, he'd seen, if only briefly, the blood smeared upon her thighs…and the bruises that already formed…and the welts…and the bite marks. His wrath overtook him, and the bride saw the seething rage in his eyes. She placed a hand on his shoulder.

"Calm yourself, he'll be getting his comeuppance soon enough," she then looted the guards' corpses and found a dagger that was still in its sheath. She pulled it free and looked over her shoulder at Soris. "Guess this'll have to do, eh? Too bad these shitheads aren't carrying swords."

Soris blinked, focusing once more on their situation. "Oh, I forgot. Remember that _shem_, Duncan? He sent me with this." He handed her a broadsword, which she hefted, a satisfied and feral grin gracing her features. "I should also mention…Nelaros is here too. He was the one that insisted we come and rescue you."

She straightened and twirled her weapons in both hands. "We need to find him immediately."

Soris nodded. "He can't be far. He was guarding the area just beyond the bedrooms."

The pair set out, slaying several guards along the way. It wasn't long before they caught up with Nelaros. The bride's eyes filled with tears of relief at the sight of him.

"Nelaros!" she cried out, rushing over to him. Only, she didn't see the guard standing behind him, didn't see the _shem_ wield his sword and bring it forward, plunging it into Nelaros' back. As the guard withdrew his sword from her intended, she heard his strangled cry. She watched as his blood began to seep through his linen shirt. He fell to the ground, arm stretched out to her. All movement seemed to cease. She stared at Nelaros' lifeless form, his face serene even in death. Time sped up when she felt the twisting of her insides.

"Filthy elves," the guard scoffed. "They're like a bloody infesta-"

The bride lashed out with her dagger, catching the guard in the stomach. The pleasing sound of metal rending flesh. The guard's weapon clattered to the floor, and his breathing became laboured. The bride leaned into him and whispered into his ear. "Gut wounds…they've gotta be the worst. You'll be in agony for hours. You killed my betrothed, and that was a mistake. Do you think you'll be found before you die? Or will you be forgotten in all of the confusion, left in this shitty room with your hands pressed to your stomach, trying desperately to keep your guts from slipping out of your body?" She extracted the blade from his stomach, her hand soaked with his blood. Without her holding him up, the guard crumpled to the ground. He let loose several cries of anguish.

"Aren't you going to kill him?" Soris asked. She didn't answer. She knelt beside Nelaros, cradling his head in her arms. She kissed his forehead and rocked back and forth.

"I wish I could take you away from all of this. You deserve a proper resting place." She made no effort to wipe off the tears that trailed down her cheeks. She ran her fingers over his chest and felt something round and solid, hidden in the inside pocket of his simple leather jerkin. She reached into his pocket to sate her curiosity, and extracted a ring. The wedding ring he was to give her. She heaved a sob and placed the ring on her finger. "I'll never forget you," she whispered, running her fingers along his cheek. She leaned in and kissed his lips. They were still warm. She got to her feet and wiped away the tears. She turned to Soris. "Let's find the bastard that started all of this."

* * *

"Wait wait, let's not be too hasty. Kill me and your precious streets will run red with elven blood. Leave now, and you'll be forty sovereigns richer." Vaughn's voice was as smooth as silk, but the panic in his eyes belied his calm façade.

"Forty sovereigns? Really?" she repeated. She chewed on the inside of her cheek, feigning contemplation.

"You're not seriously considering-" Soris began.

"Of course not, fool!" she cried out. "He thinks his life is worth forty sovereigns? I hate to disappoint, but it isn't even worth the shit on his boot heel." In two quick steps the bride was upon him. He held up his hands as a means of defence, but she paid him no mind. With one swift motion she separated his head from his shoulders. Blood rained down upon her, and she practically bathed in it. "You deserved worse than that," she spat upon his corpse. Soris grabbed her arm.

"We need to leave…_now_."

* * *

As they entered the Alienage, the Elder stood before them, along with the Warden _shem_ and the women that had been held captive.

"You saved these women from a fate worse than death. For that we are eternally grateful, child." Valendrian murmured, clasping the bride's shoulder. She flinched and turned away from him.

"Nelaros did not survive," she whispered. "He died…trying to save me. I don't think I'm worthy of such a sacrifice."

Valendrian sighed and squeezed her gently. "Oh, but you are. Never forget that. What of the Arl's son?"

"I killed him," she replied, her voice emotionless.

"Then the guards will arrive shortly," the Warden _shem_ announced.

The sound of marching troops reverberated through the square. The bride almost smiled at their timing.

"To what do we owe the honour of this visit?" Valendrian asked smoothly.

"Spare me the pleasantries, Valendrian. The Arl's castle walls have been painted with blood and we know the culprit is a member of the Alienage," the head guard snapped.

"I did it," the bride stepped forward.

The head guard tilted his head to one side. "All by yourself? I'm supposed to believe that?"

"Whether or not you believe me is of little consequence. All you humans want is a knife ear to blame for killing that sonofabitch. Well, here I am. It was all my doing."

"You are very brave to take the blame, otherwise many would have suffered. What is your name, elf?"

"My name is Kallian Tabris, daughter to Cyrion and Adaia Tabris," she replied. "I'll take whatever punishment you see fit."

"Very well, come with me," the head guard ordered.

That was when Duncan, the Warden _shem_, stepped forward and invoked the Right of Conscription.

* * *

"It is done…Welcome," Duncan intoned. He helped Kallian to her feet. Her head was pounding.

The blond _shem_ was appraising her, worry etched upon his features. "Did you have dreams? I had terrible dreams in my Joini-"

Kallian held up her hand. "Be quiet, _shem_. My head feels like it's been split in two."

"How do you feel?" Duncan asked.

"I feel kind of…"

"Wait…Alistair, do you feel that?" Duncan interrupted.

The blond _shem_ stood stock-still. "Is it…darkspawn?"

Duncan shook his head. "No, it's more akin to what I feel when another Warden is near. At the moment I sense your presence, Alistair, as well as Kallian's…but there is another…a weaker presence…"

"Where is it coming from?" the blond _shem_ inquired.

"It seems to be emanating from…" his voice trailed off as realization dawned upon him. "Oh Maker…Kallian, I'm so sorry."

Kallian frowned, shaking her head. "I don't get it. What are you sorry for?"

"The presence is…in you," Duncan replied. "It would seem that you are with child. I do not know how it survived the Joining…"

Kallian's mind was reeling. "But-but that's impossible! I've never even-" her heart stopped. "Oh…oh no…please…no…"

"I don't get it…shouldn't she be happy about being-" Duncan sent a stern glare in the blond _shem_'s direction, effectively silencing him.

"I am sorry, Kallian. There are ways that we can…resolve this issue. Potions and magic that can be used," Duncan ventured.

Kallian's features hardened. "No. I won't kill it. It belongs to me and will bear no trace of him. If anyone says otherwise, their blood will coat my blades."


	2. The Hysminai

**Dislcaimer: I do not own Dragon Age or any of its characters.**

**A/N: **I don't have much to add, so I'll just say reviews are welcomed.

* * *

**The Hysminai**

_"Beside them Battle incarnate onward pressed_

_Yelling, and from limbs streamed blood and sweat."_

_Following the Blight, a beautiful red-headed bard who had travelled with the Wardens wrote a tale of their adventures. She had a great deal of help from each member of the party, and soon enough her tale was published and was sold in markets all over Ferelden. As the book gained popularity, it drew the interest of merchants in Orlais, and even Antiva. The original version numbered three thousand pages in length (the bard had a tendency to prattle on, you see), but eventually, a condensed version was published, and it sold even more copies than its predecessor. The bard donated most of her royalties to the Grey Wardens, and the rest she spent on setting up her own company of minstrels who travelled throughout all of Ferelden (but that's a story for another time). The name of the book was The Blight Warriors. The following is an excerpt from that book._

**The Quests**

The Circle was broken. The Warden proved herself a sympathizer of the mages, and helped in the initial rebuilding of the Mages' Tower. The abominations and demons had been a true test of the Warden's strength, but with the help of her friends, she was able to vanquish the evil that had plagued the Tower. It had been their first stop in their quest for allies. They gained a new friend in Wynne. Her assistance proved invaluable in times of combat, as well as down time for the Warden and her…delicate condition.

Redcliffe was their next stop. The undead littered the town. Luckily this mission proved much easier than their previous endeavor, and they discovered the source of the demonic outbreak: the Arl's own son. Rather than strike the boy down, the Warden opted to return to the Circle and seek the help of the mages. They were able to remove the demon from the boy, and the city was awarded a well-deserved respite. Alistair was eternally grateful to the Warden, and though she still referred to him as the 'silly, blond _shem_', she did so with a smile on her lips. She began to feel the stirrings of the child in her womb.

Through Denerim they found out about Brother Genitivi's research into the Urn of Sacred Ashes. Their trip to Haven was fraught with bloodshed. The Warden met her first High Dragon. It very nearly killed her. She and her allies ventured through the Gauntlet and finally came upon the Sacred Urn. The Warden took a pinch…and promptly passed out. Alistair carried her from the Gauntlet and stripped her of her armour. He was terrified to see the blood spilling down her thighs. It was then that Wynne intervened. Wynne knew that the Warden would never be able push the baby from her body. The birthing process itself could kill her. The Warden had sustained injuries that Wynne suspected may have caused internal bleeding. And so she made a decision. The screeching baby was cut from the Warden's womb…healthy and whole, much to the amazement of all those who'd witnessed the event. Wynne immediately set to work on the Warden. Travelling while trying to heal someone with mortal wounds wasn't exactly easy. Hours turned into days, days into weeks. The babe suckled from her mother's breast despite her comatose state. Alistair marvelled at that particular fact. He never would have guessed that an unconscious woman could breast feed. He stayed by her side day and night. He held the babe in his arms, cooing and promising that its mother would soon be well. The morning that she woke, Alistair had fallen asleep in the chair near the Warden's bedside, the babe nestled against his chest. The babe stared at the Warden through amethyst eyes.

"Alistair…" the Warden murmured.

He stirred and woke. "K-Kallian? Oh, thank the Maker…I thought…"

"The baby?"

"A healthy baby girl," Alistair smiled reassuringly.

The Warden reached out toward her child, tears rolling down her cheeks. "Adair…come and see your mama. You've been in my dreams for quite some time."

The Warden was surprised to discover that she'd been nursed back to health in Castle Redcliffe. She was even more surprised to discover that the ashes had actually worked. For three months she stayed within the castle walls caring for little Adair, but it soon came time to continue their quest for allies against the Blight. With a heavy heart she left her baby under the care of the Arl and his wife. They promised to guard the child with their lives.

Their next stop was the Brecillian Forest. The Warden had never seen a werewolf before, and frankly, she found them thoroughly frightening…yet surprisingly misunderstood. She found a certain kinship with the Dalish, and bonded especially with Lanaya. The two had been born amongst the _shems_. The Warden had often contemplated running off in search of the Dalish. She pledged that she would help the clan find a cure to their plague…only to discover that their Keeper had deceived them all. She had fully expected the Lady of the Forest to slaughter Zathrian, but she showed him mercy. Zathrian lifted the curse and thus ended the sickness that plagued his clan. Lanaya was to be the new Keeper, and the Warden had nothing but respect for the woman. She vowed to return.

Their last stop, Orzammar, was perhaps the most difficult. Political unrest…dwarves rallying around them to curry their favour…the pretention of the dwarven nobility. It made Kallian sick. To be concerned with such trivialities when a Blight was imminent…but in order to gain the dwarves' support, she had to step in and play their game. She threw in with Harrowmont who was, in her opinion, the lesser of two evils. She just couldn't stand Bhelen's slimy demeanour. He reminded her of _him_. They cleaned out Jarvia's criminal carta…they even travelled to the Deep Roads and fought more darkspawn than she thought imaginable. All the while a new friend fought by her side, a crazy, drunken, dwarf. She didn't know why, but the Warden had taken an immediate liking to him. He wasn't a _shem_, and he seemed honourable. As much as she tried to relate to her other companions…she just couldn't get past the fact that they were humans. She knew she was being irrational, but she just couldn't let go of the past. That didn't stop her from fighting by their sides, risking life and limb to protect them. The only human she actually _did _warm up to was Alistair…not in a romantic sense of course, but they shared a bond. He was like the older brother she never had. He taught her the ways of the Templar, she taught him the ways of the Champion. For some reason, in her eyes, he wasn't human, he was just Alistair. He respected her more than any other, and during their dark journey through the Deep Roads, he offered her quiet support. He knew instinctually how terrified she was. After defeating the broodmother, which was possibly the most revolting…disgusting…repugnant…_thing_ that the Warden had ever laid eyes on, they trekked through to the Anvil of the Void. They met Branka, who was quite obviously insane. Even Oghren could see that. They passed through all of Caridan's tests, and were quite shocked to meet the paragon himself…only he had been made into a golem. He begged them to destroy the Anvil, explained the horrors that it had caused. The Warden couldn't help but agree…Branka, on the other hand, felt differently. Oghren asked the Warden to spare his wife, but the Warden had to refuse his request. They returned to Orzammar with a crown for the new king, and the Anvil destroyed. Harrowmont was made ruler.

They faced several trials in Denerim, and then there was the dreaded Landsmeet. The Warden learned of the issues in the Alienage after rescuing Anora, whom she hated on sight. She was finally reunited with her family, and since the Arl had brought Adair to the Redcliffe's Estate, her family was invited to meet the newest member of the Tabris clan. They gained favour with the nobles, and the Landsmeet was a success. Alistair was named king…and much to the Warden's delight, he'd actually warmed to the idea.

On the eve of the final battle, Morrigan came to the Warden with a proposition: let her lay with Alistair so that the witch could conceive a child. This would ensure that the Grey Warden who struck the killing blow against the archdemon would survive. The fetus in Morrigan's womb would absorb the demon's soul. The Warden was uneasy with the idea, and felt it should be up to Alistair to decide. At first he thought the Warden was joking, but once he understood the severity of the situation, and all of the risks involved, he knew that he had to sleep with Morrigan. He was not afraid of dying…that wasn't the issue. He couldn't let his fellow Warden perish…he loved her; she was the family that he'd never been able to have. Sleeping with Morrigan was a small price to pay for the safety of his surrogate sister.

And so they fought the archdemon, a battle for the ages. King Cailan would have been proud. Alistair, Oghren and Wynne fought alongside the Warden, and after hours of excruciating injuries, moments where they thought all was lost, the demon was struck down…the Warden delivering the final blow. The skies erupted with a blinding light, and the darkspawn retreated, their leader vanquished. The cheers of the men on the battlefield could be heard for miles. Those on the rooftop of Fort Drakon hoisted the bruised, bloodied - and smiling - Warden onto their shoulders. They dubbed her the Hero of Ferelden. It wasn't long before Alistair was officially made king. Smiling nobles and elated countrymen marked the coronation ceremony.

The Warden knew she had no place amongst them. When the king offered her a boon, she asked that the Alienage be made into a proper arling, and that her cousin Shianni be made the arlessa. This upset a few of the nobles, just as the Warden had suspected it would. The king, however, agreed to the Warden's request. He asked her what her plans were. She could see from the look in his eyes that he wanted her to stay with him in Denerim. She smiled at him, placing a hand on his shoulder.

"I love you. You're the only human that I trust with my life; and that's the problem, your Majesty. You're the **only** one. I think it would be best if I take Adair and travel the lands. In the end, I think you know where I'll wind up. But please don't tell the others. They just wouldn't understand, and I don't want them to come looking for me."

Alistair nodded, eyes shining with tears. He tucked a strand of ebony hair behind her pointed ear and cupped her cheek. "Farewell, sister. It has been an honour. I know our paths will cross again."

The Warden pulled the king into a tight embrace. "That they will, your Majesty. That they will."


	3. Pepromene

**Disclaimer: **I don't own Dragon Age or any of its characters.

* * *

**Pepromene**

_"We are all part of the destined share. Follow your true calling, for everyone is tied to a destiny."_

His procession was not a large one. He took only three guards. He wasn't sure if they'd be welcomed into their home. He approached the familiar path, eyes scanning the area for signs of life. He heard only the sounds of the forest. He cast a backward glance at his guards, and sent them an almost imperceptible nod of reassurance. When his gaze returned to the path three Dalish sentries stood before him, having appeared seemingly from out of nowhere, blocking his way. Luckily, he recognized one of them.

"Andaran atish'an, King Alistair. What brings you here?"

Alistair couldn't help but smile at Mithras' blunt manner. He could tell it rubbed his guards the wrong way, so he was quick to reply. "I was hoping to have a word with your Keeper, actually. It has been quite some time since I've seen her."

"Very well, follow me. Inform your guards to keep their weapons sheathed. You are always welcome amongst our clan, but know that we are weary of outsiders." Mithras cast a suspicious glance in the guards' direction. Alistair nodded toward them, and their hands fell away from the pommels of their blades.

Keeper Lanaya looked well, and her new position suited her. She bowed to Alistair respectfully and motioned him to follow her toward the halla pen for privacy. "She is very happy here," Lanaya said simply.

"I can imagine. She always craved a life away from constant…chaos," he sighed wistfully. "And Adair?"

Lanaya smiled widely. "She is wonderful. She's gifted, in fact."

Alistair's brow furrowed. "Gifted? Gifted in what way?" He saw Lanaya's shoulders stiffen, and a sudden realization washed over him. "Ah, I see. Well, as you know, humans know very little about Dalish culture. Most would overlook a gifted elf in these parts. You needn't fear that an invasion of templars will arrive to spirit her away to the Tower," he said reassuringly. "In fact, if all goes well today…"

Lanaya's smile disappeared, and her mask of stoicism took over. "What do you wish of her exactly? It's been six years since the end of the Blight, and I'd heard through several sources that the Wardens of Ferelden had posted a Commander in Amarathine to lead them. Everything seems to be in order. This is why I am so confused by your visit."

"If you heard about the Wardens taking up residence in Amaranthine, then you are no doubt aware of the…troubling issues that occurred some five years ago."

Lanaya shuddered. "Yes, the sentient darkspawn. Kallian left the clan for some time…she sensed their presence at a nearby village. She risked her life, yet again, for humans. She remained unnoticed for the most part. However, a few…brutish men discovered her and tried to enslave her. How quickly you _shems_ forget-" she paused, taking a moment to regain her composure "She managed to return to us, unscathed."

"I-I'm sorry that she had to endure that. I know she wanted to remove herself from…" he sighed, shaking his head. "Anyhow, the Wardens managed to vanquish the evil that led the darkspawn uprising. Unfortunately, the victory came at great cost. The Keep fell after some time, though we've managed to rebuild…the Commander, however…" Alistair gazed off into the distance. "His time came just last year. He is with the Maker now. The Wardens need a new Commander."

The Keeper exhaled the breath she'd been holding. "And you wish for Kallian to take up the post." Alistair nodded. "I'm not sure she'll do it. She's made a life for herself here."

"May I ask where she is right now?"

"She is on a hunt with Arthras and a few hunter apprentices. She is a very good mentor," Lanaya replied.

"She's a born leader," Alistair remarked. "Which is why she'd be perfect for-"

"Keeper! Keeper! There are _shems _among us! _Actual shems_!" squealed a voice from behind the pair. Lanaya felt a faint tugging at her robes.

Alistair glanced down and his breath caught in his throat. The girl was a spitting image of her mother. Almond shaped, amethyst eyes, raven wing hair, button nose…though her ears were not pointed. He remembered reading somewhere that when an elf and human produced offspring, the human traits were usually dominant. Apparently, in this case, the only trait the girl shared with her father was her ears. Everything else screamed Kallian.

"Ah, da'len, this isn't just any _shem_. This is the _king _of the _shems_," she hefted the small girl into her arms and winked at Alistair.

Alistair felt the magic surrounding the child. He smiled at her. "I prefer to be called Alistair to be perfectly honest, but I never seem to have a say in the matter." He tilted his head to one side. "You probably don't remember me, Adair, but I was once a good friend of your mother's."

Adair smiled shyly. "Of course I remember you! I see you every night when I sleep, silly. Don't _you_ remember? You told me to call you Uncle Ali."

This sent Alistair reeling. "You…that's _actually _you? I thought I was just dreaming…that's incredible!"

"Of course it's her, you silly blond _shem_!" a familiar feminine voice mocked from behind him. "You _were_ a Templar at one time, so you must know that those gifted with magic remain aware when in the Beyond," Alistair spun on his heel and nearly fell onto his hindquarters. She looked so different! Though she was a warrior, she wore traditional Dalish armour. He very nearly blushed at the amount of flesh she had exposed. He saw the faint scar on her lower abdomen from where they'd cut Adair from her womb. She had pulled her dark hair back into a simple ponytail, which hung just past her shoulder blades. Her eyes were still that same remarkable shade of violet, but what struck him most were the markings on her face. She'd truly become one with the clan, and now paid homage to the elven pantheon with the traditional blood inking. He wasn't sure which god or goddess her markings represented, but he knew that they were similar to those that Lanaya herself sported, though Kallian's were far more intricate. "What's gotten into you, brother? When last we saw each other I couldn't get a word in edgewise because you spent the entire Blight talking your fool head off. Say something!"

He rushed toward Kallian and pulled her into a tight embrace. "Oh Maker, I've missed you, Kalli. You can't even imagine how bloody _awful _these noblemen-" his words were cut off immediately at the stiffening of her muscles. "Oh, Andraste's arse, Kalli, I didn't mean to-I'm such a prize idiot."

Kallian sighed and relaxed in his grasp. "Don't worry about it. It's in the past. Besides, at least I got my daughter out of the sordid affair, eh?" she gave him a sad smile. It made his heart clench.

"Mum, is Uncle Ali really gonna take us to the stone castle?" Adair piped up.

The Wardens turned to face the Keeper and child. Alistair's expression was priceless. "How did she-?"

"You told her all about it in your dreams, fool. I knew you were coming long before you got here," Kallian replied. "I don't know why you think that I would be the best candidate, but I do see that you're pretty set in your decision. I've been giving it some thought. But before I give my answer, _I_ want to ask _you_ a couple of questions." Alistair nodded. "Who're the Wardens there now?"

"Well, there's a dwarf who was rescued from the Deep Roads, her name's Sigrun. Then there's Oghren-"

Kallian's eyes lit up. "Oghren's a Warden now? I'll be damned…"

"Mum, you said a bad word!" Adair cried out.

Kallian flinched and smiled at her daughter apologetically. "Sorry, sweetheart. It won't happen again." She turned back to Alistair. "Who else?"

"An apostate mage named Anders-"

"Human?" Kallian asked.

"Yes, he's human," Alistair replied. Kallian scoffed. Alistair ignored the sound and continued. "There's also an interesting…well…there's no real way of explaining it…it's a corpse possessed by a Fade spirit…they call him Justice."

"Al…right…that's something even _I_ wouldn't expect. Is that all then?"

"No, there's one more…remember Rendon Howe?" Kallian shuddered and nodded. "Well, his son, Nathaniel, is now part of the Order."

Kallian's eyebrows practically flew up past her hairline. "You've got to be kidding! Are you trying to get back at me for making you sleep with Morrigan?" Alistair shook his head, not daring to speak while she was so incensed. "By all the Creators…is he anything like his father?"

"No, he's proven himself an honorable man."

"Fine…I'll be this…Commander of yours on one condition," Kallian stated.

Alistair folded his arms over his chest. "Name it."

"My daughter comes with me. I can't and won't leave her here. I trust the clan with my life, but I need to keep her at my side. Always." Kallian's chin lifted defiantly. She fully expected an argument on this concession.

Alistair nodded his head in approval. "Deal. I see no reason to separate the two of you."

Alistair's acceptance pleased Kallian. She turned to Lanaya, her eyes suddenly filled with emotion. The plans had been made with such speed that she barely had a chance to digest what she was leaving behind. Yet, she knew that as soon as her lips had pressed against the silver chalice filled with darkspawn blood, her duty to the Wardens would always come first. They needed her now. That meant she would have to abandon the tranquility and acceptance that came with living among her people. She took Adair from Lanaya's arms, her tears spilling freely. "Ma serannas, Keeper, for all you've done for me and mine."

Lanaya nodded her own eyes glistening. "May the Creators always light your path."

Kallian gazed upon her daughter and smiled. "Well, sweeting, it looks like you were right all along. I guess I owe you that big wheel of halla cheese that you've had your eye on for so long."

Alistair's eyes nearly bugged out of his head. "Did you say _cheese_?"


	4. Hedylogos

**Disclaimer: **I don't own Dragon Age or any of its characters.

* * *

**Hedylogos**

_"Between flattery and admiration there often flows a river of contempt."_

"So…what do you reckon?" Anders asked.

Nathanial glanced up at the mage. "What do you mean?"

The pair had taken a break from training and were laundering their linens in the lake near the Keep. Despite having servants in the Wardens' employ that would normally take care of such things, both men found comfort in the mundane task.

Anders scrubbed at a particularly stubborn bloodstain before murmuring conspiratorially, "I heard she's a real ball buster, hard to get along with, and no patience for anyone…Kind of like Velanna!" He recounted the rumours he had heard of late.

"It will be…strange having an _elf_ as our leader," Nathaniel said softly.

"You'd better get used to it, _shem_," a voice spat from behind them.

Both men turned to identify the source of the interruption. They each nearly died of embarrassment when faced with the king, a little girl, and a very angry looking elf. The elf folded her arms across her chest, and narrowed her violet eyes. "Who're these fools, your Majesty?" the elf asked.

King Alistair sighed. "The blond fellow is Anders, a mage, and the dark haired fellow is Nathaniel." The king waved an arm toward the elven woman. "This, gentlemen, is your new Warden-Commander – Kallian Tabris."

Both men leapt to attention immediately. Nathaniel looked especially uncomfortable. "Commander, I apologize profusely. I meant no disresp-"

"Shut it," Kallian snapped. "Your apology means nothing, Warden. All I care about is whether or not you can fight." She scrutinized him, her gaze was hard and made Nathaniel feel like he was being dissected. "Your weapon of choice is a bow?"

"Yes, Commander," he replied.

Kallian turned her attention to Anders. "The only thing I've heard about you is that you're a mage…what's your main specialization, blondie?"

Anders flashed the Commander a winning smile. "Well, Commander, I have _many_ specializations," he winked. "I feel as though we all got off on the wrong foot, Commander. Please, call me Anders." He held out his hand, his eyes gleaming mischievously.

Kallian stared down at the proffered hand. She supposed that she was being unreasonable with them, and should at least be a little civil. She relented and grasped his hand, shaking it firmly. It was then that she felt a slight trill of electricity shoot up her arm. The sensation was pleasant, she had to admit, but Kallian was _not _a fan of having magic used on her by her supposed comrades. She took in his catlike grin, and suddenly realised that he was actually _flirting _with her. She had to admit, the _shem_ had balls. Nevertheless, such insubordination required immediate action. She squeezed his hand just a bit tighter and watched as Anders paled visibly. "I believe I asked you a question, _mage_."

Anders felt his mana deplete considerably, all from a single squeeze of her hand. It was a warning, he knew. "You're…a templar?"

"No, I simply picked the skills up from an…unnamed source," she smiled sweetly, but her eyes bore into his. "Now, I'll ask you again: what is your main specialization?" there was an edge to her voice that Anders couldn't help but shudder at.

"I'm an adept Spirit Healer, and have recently started training as a Battle Mage," he replied.

Suddenly the young girl spoke up. "Mum! He's a healer like me! Do you think he could teach me how-"

Kallian's gaze snapped over to her daughter. "Hush, Adair. What did I say about telling others about your gift?"

The child looked away, immediately chagrined. "I'm sorry mama."

The elf sighed and wandered over to Adair, collecting the girl into her arms. "No, no, I'm the one who should be sorry, sweeting. Mama just worries about you. There are bed _shems_ out there that want to take you from me, and I don't want that to happen," her eyes darkened. "I _won't_ let that happen." She kissed her daughter's forehead lovingly.

Anders watched this exchange with wonder. To see the Commander shift from a sharp tongued harpy to this sweet, maternal creature…it was beyond perplexing. He cleared his throat tactfully. "Commander, if you wish, I'd be happy to tutor your daughter in my spare time. I'm pretty sure I hate the Chantry and the templars just as much as you do." He watched the conflicting emotions play across her features.

"I…I'll think about it. Thank you," she replied.

Adair wiggled out of her mother's arms and leapt to the ground. She rushed over to where Anders stood and tugged on his robes. "I'm Adair! I didn't know _shems_ could do magic too. Can you heal people? Have you healed many people? Have you ever healed an animal? I once healed a bear. He was very happy about it after. I rode on his back and he was soooooo big!" The small girl was making several large motions with her arms, and Anders had to bite his lower lip to keep from chuckling. He noticed how the Commander's muscles had visibly tensed and she had even moved to block her daughter from moving toward him, but the king held her back, shaking his head at her slightly. Anders raised his eyebrows at his new leader, a silent question as to whether or not he could address her daughter. She chewed on her lower lip and nodded.

Anders smiled and knelt down to the little girl's level. The first thing he noticed was that she looked just like her mother. The second thing he noticed was that her ears weren't pointed. _Interesting…_"You, my dear girl, may call me Anders. To answer your questions: Yes, _shems_ can do magic, yes I heal people, have I healed many people? Well, I'd have to say yes to that question as well. I can't say I've ever healed a bear before, but one time Ser Pounce-A-Lot got into a nasty scrap and I healed him."

Adair giggled and glanced at her mother. "He called himself a _shem_!"

Anders feigned confusion. "Well, that's what I am, aren't I? I'm certainly no dwarf!" At this last remark, he heard a distinctly feminine chuckle. He glanced up and raised an eyebrow when he saw the Commander, red faced with a hand covering her mouth. His lips quirked up into a lopsided grin and he returned his attention to Adair. "I'd make a terrible dwarf, really. I'm too tall, I don't drink _nearly _enough ale, and compared to the other dwarves, my beard is pathetic." He hazarded another glance up at Kallian, whose shoulders had begun to shake. She was trying _very _hard to stifle her laughter. By the surprised look on the king's face, Anders could only deduce that laughter from the Commander was a rarity.

"Yes, I agree, you would make a very poor dwarf," Adair announced solemnly. "By the way, who's Ser Pounce-A-Lot?"

Anders' eyes brightened. "Why, he's my cat! The old Commander found him and gave him to me. He's such a handsome fellow. Would you like to meet him?"

Adair turned to her mother with pleading eyes. "Oh can I see the kitty mum, please? I promise I'll be good! I'll pet him nicely and I won't accidentally pull his tail like the other kitty we saw on the road."

Kallian pinched the bridge of her nose. "Sweetie, we can talk about all this once we're settled in. I want to see the Wardens' combat skills first hand, and I'm sorely in need of a bath, and so are you, for that matter. Maybe after all of that, you can see his kitty." She turned to Alistair. "Your Majesty, would you mind taking Adair into the Keep? I'd like to talk to these two for a moment."

Alistair nodded. He wandered over to Adair and lifted her into his arms easily. She let loose a little giggle. "Uncle Ali, can I go piggy-back again?"

Alistair grinned. As the king he really should be behaving in a manner more befitting his station, but damn it, he had a soft spot for the girl. "Alright, Addy." He flipped her around so she rode on his back and then turned to Kallian. "Don't be _too _hard on them." He winked and headed toward the Keep.

Kallian turned and faced the two men, her hands resting on her hips. Nathaniel was regarding her wearily, while Anders smiled at her brightly. She chewed on the inside of her cheek; she appeared to be weighing her thoughts and how to proceed.

"Nathaniel," she began, "I apologize for my behaviour earlier. I know that you're a good man, and the king told me about your rescue of Teyrn Cousland. It was unfair of me to snap at you when you were simply stating the obvious – elves don't usually hold positions of power."

Nathaniel relaxed and bowed his head. "You are most kind, Commander."

Kallian held up her hand. "No, Nathaniel, I'm not. In fact, I can be a right bitch when I want to be, and frankly, that's most of the time. I also can't stand _shems_. I can stand a few _individual shems_, like the king, and a few of my old companions, but as a whole, I hate the entire lot of you. I especially hate _noble_ _shems._ There's a reason for that, but it isn't any of your business. Nathaniel, you used to be a nobleman, but now you're a Warden, and that's all that matters now. My comments to you were out of line and I apologize. Unfortunately, I have a tendency to say whatever comes to mind without much regard for the person on the receiving end of my ire. I hope to change this…part of me, but it will take time."

"I appreciate your candour, and I understand. I hope that we'll eventually be able to build a working relationship," Nathaniel responded.

"Know this, as much as you may make me uncomfortable, I will _always_ be with you in combat. You're my responsibility, and I don't take that lightly. I would lay my life down for any of you, regardless of your race." She took a breath and turned to Anders. "I appreciate the way you treated my daughter. It was most kind. I refuse to send her to the Tower; especially after the Uldred ordeal. If you're willing to teach her the ways of magic, I would be grateful. Our Keeper had started to show her the ropes, but they hadn't gotten far." Her eyes narrowed. "And if you _ever_ use magic on me outside of battle or a sparring session _ever _again without my consent, I'll smite you so hard that even your ancestors will feel it. Is that clear?"

Anders swallowed audibly. "Yes, Commander."

Kallian nodded. "Good. Pick up your things and tell the others in the Keep to meet me on the practice grounds in an hour. Tell them to wear full armour."

"Yes, Commander," they replied in unison. Kallian reached down and hefted a large sack, obviously filled with her belongings, over her shoulder and headed toward the Keep.

When she was out of earshot Nathaniel turned to Anders. "You used _magic_ on her?"

Anders grinned widely, "I just sent a bit of a current up her arm when we shook hands. She paid me back in kind, though. She nearly drained me of all my mana."

"Are you insane? She could have killed you on the spot!" Nathaniel exclaimed.

Anders shrugged a shoulder. "Lovely woman like her? It was well worth the risk. Besides, I think she likes me, don't you?"

Nathaniel shook his head bewilderedly. "You are quite possibly the most idiotic man I've ever met."

Anders did not answer immediately, for the slight swaying of the Commander's hips held his attention. He knew that her sensual gait was unconscious, which is why he found it all the more alluring. He grinned devilishly. "What can I say? I've always had a thing for women with tattoos…"


	5. Thanatos

**Disclaimer: **I do not own Dragon Age or any of its characters.

* * *

**Thanatos**

_"On thee, the portion of our time depends, whose absence lengthens life, whose presence ends."_

Kallian found Alistair and Adair in the throne room of the Keep. Nobody paid her much mind as she'd walked through the grounds since no one had really recognized her; or if they did, they didn't say anything to her. Alistair was busy talking to a slightly older _shem_ with salt and pepper hair. He stood at attention, listening intently to everything the king was saying. Adair was busily playing on the floor with a tabby cat. Obviously, she'd found the mage's pet…or the mage had taken it upon himself to introduce her to the feline. Either way her daughter was occupied. Because the throne room was virtually empty, (and the king had informed her that this was where the Wardens commonly hung out) Kallian could only deduce that Howe and the mage had heeded her orders and that her charges were busily preparing themselves for a gruelling practice session. Kallian wandered up to Alistair and the grey haired _shem_ and dumped her heavy bag of armour and weaponry on the floor.

"Ahoy, _shems_. Where am I bunking? I need to change into my armour for my practice bout with the other Wardens," Kallian announced without preamble.

Alistair chuckled and motioned to Kallian. "This is Warden-Commander Kallian, if you hadn't guessed." He said to the grizzled _shem_ in heavy chainmail armour. "This, Commander, is Varel, the Keep's Seneschal. He takes care of day to day affairs."

Varel bowed to Kallian and eyed her with undisguised awe. "It is an honour to meet you, Commander. To have the Hero of-"

Kallian held up her hands in an attempt to stave off Varel's words. "Ack! Please don't do that, I was just doing my job, for the Creators' sake! That we all survived was just a happy coincidence." She sighed, shaking her head. "I do appreciate the sentiment, though. Now, as I was saying, I need a place to sleep. My daughter will be sharing the room with me, so it'd be great if there were quarters that were large enough for two beds."

"It's all been taken care of," Varel replied. "His Majesty had sent word of your arrival ahead of time, and his instructions included shared quarters with your daughter."

Kallian's brow furrowed. "But how did he know that I'd say yes…" she turned to the king, her lips quirked into a smirk. "Presumptuous bastard, aren't you, your Majesty?"

Alistair shrugged a shoulder, "what can I say? I'm an eternal optimist." He winked at her playfully. "Now that everything seems to be in order, I'll be taking my leave. A caravan should be arriving in two days time with the rest of your things, Commander. Maker only knows how you managed to carry all of that armour and weaponry around."

"I'm stronger than I look," she replied huffily.

"Without a doubt," Alistair grinned and reached out, squeezing her shoulder affectionately. "I'll return in a few months to see how things are going. In the meantime, I expect regular updates on the state of affairs." His voice had taken on an official tone.

"Of course," Kallian responded. "Now get out of here, you silly blond _shem_. You have a country to run!" The pair embraced one last time before the king departed. Kallian turned her attention back to the Seneschal. "Alright, can you show me where I'll be sleeping? I need to get ready for the practice session with the other Wardens. I don't want to keep 'em waiting too long."

"Right this way Commander," Varel motioned for her to follow. Kallian cast a glance at her daughter, who was still busying herself with the mage's cat. She decided to leave her be and followed the Seneschal to her new quarters.

* * *

The practice field was slick with mud from a recent downpour. As Kallian approached, she took note of each Warden standing in line on the field. She recognized Oghren immediately and smiled internally. She also recognized the rogue _shem_ and the mage, which left the female dwarf, Sigrun, and the…walking corpse. She arched an eyebrow at his decaying flesh, and was surprised that she didn't find him as off-putting as she'd originally thought she would. He held himself with a fierce dignity, one that couldn't be ignored. As Kallian drew closer, she saw Oghren's eyes light up.

"Well I'll be a nug-humper's uncle! If it ain't the Hero herself!" He exclaimed. His whooping joy sent a blush crawling up her neck.

"Far as I heard, Og, you're not unfamiliar withnug-humping either. Must run in the family," she teased. She stopped just ten feet away from them, ready to address them for the first time as their Commander. The entire situation seemed incredibly surreal, and she was anxious to get to the fighting part of their practice session. "Alright everyone, I'm your new Commander, Kallian Tabris. Some of you I've met already, and some I haven't. What's important now is that I need to find out your strengths and weaknesses. I'll pair you up into teams. You'll fight 'til someone yields. The winners of each fight will go on to battle each other until only one person remains, and that person will have to fight me." Kallian folded her arms over her chest, the familiar clink of her medium weight dragonbone armour resonated through the silence. She wrinkled her nose as she often did when contemplating an action, and came to a decision. "The first bout will be between Sigrun and Nathaniel."

The dwarf moved to the weapon stand and chose a blunted broadsword and dagger. Nathaniel followed soon after and opted for a simple ironbark bow and a quiver of arrows (again, with blunted heads). They made their way to the fighting area. Nathaniel nocked an arrow and Sigrun held her blades at the ready, twirling them idly. They circled each other slowly, each waiting for the other to make the first move. Eventually, Nathaniel let his arrow fly, making direct contact with Sigrun's left shoulder. The dwarf grunted and moved forward with surprising speed. She lashed out with her dagger, taking Nathaniel in the right hamstring, causing him to stumble slightly. He righted himself and twirled away from her, nocking yet another arrow. He let it loose almost immediately, connecting with the dwarf's throat. Her eyes widened and a hand flew to her neck as she choked. Nathaniel inhaled sharply. "I-I'm so sorry, I should have been more careful!" He said worriedly. He dropped his bow and knelt next to her, trying to assess the damage he'd caused.

Kallian watched the display, arms still folded about her chest. She was not a stupid woman, and she could plainly see what the problem was. "Both of you, get up!"

The pair glanced up at her. Nathaniel's expression was filled with anger. "She's obviously hurt, Commander."

"Are you deaf? I said _get up_!" Kallian snarled. Sigrun looped an arm around Nathaniel and he hefted her up to her feet. Sigrun still held a hand to her throat. Kallian took a step toward the dwarf. "Let me see," she demanded. Sigrun let her hand fall away, and Kallian saw the beginnings of a very nasty bruise. "Mage!" she called out.

"Yeeeeees?" Anders fell in beside the Commander.

"Make sure that she's alright. Heal her, or whatever."

"Yes ser!" He grinned and turned to Sigrun. He gingerly ran his fingertips along her neck, making sure that there was no damage to the windpipe. Once he'd ascertained that there weren't any serious problems, he cast a simple healing spell over the area with the most amount of bruising. Kallian watched as the white light flowed from his fingers. She was accustomed to seeing Wynne perform these spells…to see a man use the same delicate movements that the old woman had…it had a strange effect on the elf. The mage glanced up and caught her staring. He winked at her, and Kallian scowled. _Shems…_

"Thank you," Sigrun said gratefully.

Anders flashed another one of his dazzling smiles. "Any time." He turned to Kallian, a knowing smirk gracing his features. "Is there anything _else_ I can do for you, Commander?"

"No," she replied a bit too sharply. She turned her cold gaze onto Sigrun and Nathaniel. "How long?"

They both glanced at each other. "It happened two years ago," Nathaniel replied. "We're no longer…romantically involved though."

Kallian pursed her lips together. This could be a very big problem…if they couldn't remain objective in a simple practice session, what would they be like during a _real_ fight? "Have you fought alongside each other since? In serious battle?"

"Yes," came Sigrun's reply.

Kallian turned to Oghren. "Has this issue ever affected their ability to make rational decisions in the heat of battle?"

Oghren shook his head. "Nope. Not as far as I can tell."

Kallian sighed. "Well, if it doesn't have a negative effect… If I notice _anything _out of the ordinary, I'll ship one of you to the Denerim compound. Is that clear?"

"Yes, Commander," both replied immediately.

A sudden cry was heard throughout the field. "Commander!"

Each of them turned to see one of the Keep's guards dashing toward them, waving his arms about wildly. "Commander!" he continued shouting. "We need Anders right away! Someone's been hurt badly! They're in the throne room!"

Kallian frowned and nodded. "Of course," she said. "Actually, we should all go. We'll resume this practice at a later date." They all followed the guard back to the throne room. When they entered, the scene spread out before them was grisly indeed. "What happened?" Kallian demanded.

A woman, obviously another guard, lay on the throne room floor. Her legs were bent in disturbing angles, and her chest appeared to be crushed. There was a long streak of blood from where she'd been dragged into the chambers. Varel and another male guard were kneeling over her. "Oh, Maker…Please…don't take her from me," the guard moaned. "Please…"

Varel looked up at Kallian. "There was still some repair work that needed to be done to the Keep since the darkspawn attack. Nothing major…just some reinforcements to the walls. Emily was keeping watch of the progress when suddenly a portion of wall fell onto her…she was crushed. We were only barely able to dig her out."

"Move aside," Anders shouldered his way to the woman lying on the floor. He grimaced as he did a quick assessment of her. "There's nothing I can do for her," he said grimly. "She's…gone."

"No, please! Try anything! Oh, Emily please don't go!" the guard wailed.

Varel placed a soothing hand on the man's shoulder. "I'm sorry…"

"She's not gone," came a small voice from behind the group. Everyone turned to see Adair standing and watching them. Her head was tilted to one side and she seemed confused.

Kallian moved toward her daughter. "Sweetheart, you shouldn't be seeing this-" she made to pick the girl up, but Adair skipped away and wandered over to the dead woman on the ground.

Adair crouched next to Anders and took Emily's hand into her own. Varel gasped as the girl's eyes changed from violet, to white. It was almost as though the girl was undergoing the Joining. "She doesn't want to leave," Adair explained. "She's stuck though…" the little girl wrinkled her nose. She turned her alabaster gaze onto the crying guard. "Would you like me to get her for you?" The guard's eyes were wide. He simply nodded. "Okay," Adair smiled and stared at seemingly nothing. She reached out into thin air with her free hand. "Take my hand, Emily. We'll get you home." Adair's eyelids fell shut, and a shudder ran through her. Suddenly a great gasp erupted from Emily's lips. Anders' eyes widened like saucers. Adair's own eyes opened, and they'd returned to their usual violet shade. She glanced up at Anders. "Can you heal her now?"

Anders nodded dumbly and set to work. Three hours and several bottles of lyrium later, and the woman was resting comfortably in the barracks. She still had several minor injuries, but considering her previous state, Anders was pretty sure that she would be alright.

The guard that had been so distraught over the possible loss of Emily wandered over to the Commander, his eyes still gleaming with tears. "I don't know what your daughter did…but she saved Emily's life…she's…she's someone very special."

Kallian frowned. "I appreciate your words, ser. But if you could keep this entire episode to yourself, I'd be grateful."

The guard nodded emphatically. "Yes, of course Commander. Whatever you say." He turned and left, no doubt to check in on Emily. Kallian stood stiffly in the middle of the throne room. She wasn't quite sure what to make of what had happened. Her daughter had never done anything like that before. She'd cast minor healing spells, of course…but…to bring someone back from the dead?

"Are you alright, Mr. Anders?"

Kallian was shaken out of her reverie. She glanced over to where Anders was slouched against a wall, obviously spent from the amount of healing he'd had to do. Adair was standing over him, a worried expression played across her features. Anders smiled up at her weakly. "I'm fine, sweetheart. Just a bit drained."

"Oh," Adair tilted her head to one side. "Why didn't you just say so?" She shook her head as though Anders was the silliest thing she'd ever encountered. She knelt down and placed a hand on either side of his face. A faint purple glow emanated from the palms of her hands. After several seconds she let her hands fall away. Then she stood and skipped over to Ser Pounce-A-Lot. Anders' colour had returned, and his back straightened. He stared after the girl, the bewilderment in his eyes quite apparent. He stood, and Kallian knew right away he intended to speak with her.

"Commander…" Anders began. "Your daughter-"

"Not now, mage," Kallian replied brusquely. "I'll discuss it with you later. You did an amazing job with Emily."

Anders shook his head. "If it hadn't been for Adair, that woman wouldn't be alive." He placed a hand on Kallian's shoulder. "I really think we need to ask her what she did."

Kallian shrugged his hand away. "I told you - later. You're dismissed, mage." Without another word, Kallian strode over to her daughter, gathered her into her arms, and took her to their chambers.

Anders watched her go. His new Commander was an enigma, indeed. As was her gifted daughter. Anders let out a small chuckle. He'd always enjoyed a good puzzle.


	6. Mania

**Disclaimer: **I do not own Dragon Age or any of its characters.

* * *

**Mania**

_"…a demon is a divine power, capable of influencing—for good or evil_

_The thoughts, emotions, words, and actions of a human being _

_(or even a god)."_

Nathaniel stripped out of his studded armour and let it drop to the floor. He sat at the edge of his bed and stared at the wall opposite him. He still couldn't believe how disrespectful he'd been to the Warden-Commander, who was not only the arlessa, but the bloody Hero of Ferelden. He wasn't sure if it was a deep seeded prejudice born from years of nobility, but whatever the reason, it was quite obvious her race was the main reason for his insubordination. Not only did he make the off-colour remark about having an elf as a leader, but he yelled at her when she'd given him an order. He sighed and flopped onto his back. While she'd been incredibly understanding of his faux-pas, he knew he'd never be able to erase that first impression. He needed to think of a way to redeem himself in her eyes. Unfortunately, he knew so little about the Commander, which made redemption all the more difficult. A knock at his door interrupted his rumination.

"Come in," he beckoned. The door opened just slightly, but it was enough to allow Sigrun to poke her head in.

"Wanna talk?" she asked softly.

Nathaniel sighed. "The Commander hates me."

Sigrun entered the room and shut the door behind her. "I'm sure she doesn't hate you. She's probably just nervous at being thrown into this position."

"Still, the fact that she hates noblemen doesn't exactly work in my favour," he retorted.

Sigrun started gathering up Nathaniel's discarded armour. "Just prove yourself on the battlefield. She'll know soon enough that no simple nobleman can handle himself like you can. And who knows? Maybe she'll be taken by your chivalry, wit and good looks, just like I was," she winked at him playfully.

"And yet you still left me," Nathaniel grumbled. "I never thought I'd share something in common with Oghren – having my mate lured away by another woman."

"You know how sorry I am for that. When I joined the Legion I never really saw myself as being romantically involved with anyone. It was useless to love, because I was already dead. Ever since I've joined the Wardens and became a surfacer, I've been inundated by so many new concepts. I'm only now discovering who I am."

Nathaniel sighed and pulled Sigrun into a tight embrace. "I'm sorry, I'm just being a grump."

Sigrun pulled back slightly to smile at him. "Look at the bright side! You can ogle the Commander while she's not looking. You've always had a thing for elves."

"I don't have a 'thing' for any race. I just recognize beauty when I see it," he replied.

"How many times have you gotten laid using that line?"

Nathaniel chuckled. "I never kiss and tell."

* * *

Kallian gazed out her window while reflecting on the events that had transpired in the throne room. Her thoughts kept returning to Adaia. She glanced over her shoulder at her daughter, who was sleeping peacefully. As Kallian returned her gaze to the window, a crow flew straight into her room. Kallian frowned and looked around the room in search of something she could use to direct the bird out the window. She spied a broom just as the bird landed on her desk. She approached the bird slowly, so she wouldn't scare it. Equipped with her broom, she readied herself to strike at just the right moment.

"If you dare hit me with that broom, I shall make it my personal duty to make your life miserable."

Kallian froze, her eyes transfixed on the bird. "Did you just…talk to me?"

"Of course I did, you foolish elf!" The air in the room seemed to crackle, and within moments the bird shifted to –

"Morrigan? What are you doing here?" Kallian whispered heatedly.

Morrigan smirked and folded her arms across her chest. "Is this how you normally greet your guests?"

Kallian was still in shock. She gaped at the amber eyed witch, and for the first time in Kallian's life, she was speechless. After a few dumbfounded moments, she finally regained the ability to speak. "Aren't you supposed to be in the Frostback mountains? I heard tell that a pregnant, raven haired woman of unknown origin was spotted somewhere in that area. I figured it was you." Kallian's eyes widened. "Did you have the-"

"It did not survive the birth," Morrigan replied. Kallian was sure she saw a flash of pain in Morrigan's eyes. Not wanting to seem weak, the witch quickly re-donned her mask of indifference. "Perhaps the child was not strong enough to absorb the soul of an Old God."

Kallian spared a glance at her slumbering daughter. The thought of Adaia dying brought tears to her eyes. She couldn't imagine losing a child. It just felt unnatural. "I'm sorry Morrigan, you must have been devastated."

"'Twas…disappointing…To have carried the child for so long - feeling it grow inside of me…" Morrigan sighed and shook her head. "Enough of this maudlin talk, it accomplishes nothing. I came here to ask a favour of you."

Kallian raised an eyebrow. "Favour? What kind of a favour? Because honestly, the last favour I did for you nearly cost me my life."

"And you have my deepest thanks. I shall never forget that you played a large part in saving me from the fate that Mother had in store," Morrigan replied. Kallian knew that her words were genuine.

"By the Creators, I know I'll regret asking this, but what is this favour you wish of me?"

Morrigan smiled. "'Tis not as dangerous as killing Flemeth. When you gave me her grimoire, I knew I would be able to unlock many of her secrets. One of them being the spell of immortality I shared with you. What I had not counted on was a record of all her daughters…the very ones whose youth she stole. Almost all of them have perished…but I did manage to find one."

"I thought you had no desire to look for any of Flemeth's daughters," Kallian countered.

"I spoke the truth. At that time, I did not wish to seek out any of Mother's offspring. However, in recent times, my curiosity has been overwhelming. I do not know from whence this obsession came, but it needed to be sated. Which brings me back to the favour I need from you," Morrigan explained.

"Which is?"

Morrigan began to pace. "As I mentioned, I was able to find one of Flemeth's daughters. I discovered that she lived in the Wilds, not far from the hut we inhabited. Based on the information in Mother's grimoir, I was able to find her home. However, when I arrived, her small shack was in shambles and there were signs of a struggle. I found a piece of her clothing, which prompted me to take on my wolf form in order to track down her scent. 'Twas not long before I found her. A barbarian held her captive in his ramshackle abode. I spied the girl from a window, and saw evidence of her torture. I remained hidden until the barbarian returned. Within moments I heard her screams. I decided that it was time for me to intervene…he was not difficult to kill, I quite enjoyed it actually. After I saw what he'd done to her…" Kallian could feel Morrigan's anger consuming her. "When I attempted to speak with her, she was entirely unresponsive. She simply stared straight ahead. I searched the room for something – anything – that might bring her to her senses, when I found a plant. This particular plant is toxic, and if consumed can cause loss of speech, altered perception, and if untreated, will eat away at your insides. As luck would have it, I was able to find the proper ingredients to heal her, however she may not recover for several days. She began speaking two days ago, though any time she opens her mouth the majority of what she says is nonsensical. I cannot leave her vulnerable, especially after what she had to endure. I need your help Warden…Kallian…can you protect her?"

"Of course," Kallian replied. "When should we expect her?"

"In two hours."

Kallian's jaw dropped. "You're not giving us much time to prepare for a visitor. I'll go talk to the seneschal and see if he can find her a room. By the way, what's this girl's name?"

"Her name is Charlotte. That is the only information I was able to unearth from her…ramblings," Morrigan frowned. "Perhaps she will warm to you."

"Don't worry, I'll guard her with my life," Kallian smiled reassuringly.

The corners of Morrigan's lips curved upward. "I know, 'tis why you are the only one I would trust with this task." The witch turned toward the window, readying herself to shape shift.

"Wait! Is there anything else I need to know before you leave?"

Morrigan chuckled. "She is a mage, and she is almost as powerful as Flemeth. I wish you luck." Without so much as a backward glance, Morrigan shifted into a raven once again, and flew out the window.

* * *

"Hey! Sparkle fingers! Any idea what this announcement is about?"

"No idea," Anders replied. "Anyhow, why are you asking me? You're the one that travelled with her during the Blight."

Oghren shrugged. "Eh, she's too hard to read. I never know what she's thinking. All I know is that when she goes into battle mode those darkspawn ghoulies don't stand a chance."

Following breakfast the next morning, the Wardens had been ordered to meet with the Commander in the Keep's dining hall to discuss a matter that was supposedly of great importance.

"Perhaps she wants to discuss what happened yesterday…what her daughter managed to do," Nathaniel suggested.

Anders mulled it over for a few moments, then shook his head. "No, I don't think she'll want to draw too much attention to it."

"Well, you won't be held in suspense for too much longer – here she comes," Sigrun inclined her head toward the entrance of the dining hall.

As the Commander approached, Anders felt a slight tightening in his chest. He could not take his eyes off of her. She held herself with a quiet dignity, each movement was deliberate, and her violet gaze seemed to take in every single detail of her surroundings. She stopped once she arrived at the head of the table and sat in one of the many uncomfortable chairs that the Keep had to offer. She took a deep breath. "I'm glad everyone could make it. There's something that I want to share with all of you," she paused and studied each of their faces, ensuring that she had everyone's attention. When her gaze settled on Anders, he couldn't help but wink at her. He saw jaw clench in annoyance, however, he also noted the blush that had crept up her neck all the way to her cheeks. "An old friend came to see me last night. She needs my…our help. We are protecting a young woman named Charlotte. She's staying in the room right next to mine." The Commander exhaled slowly, "no one is to enter her room under any circumstances. Attending to her needs falls solely on my shoulders, is that understood?" Most of the group nodded in agreement, but Anders' curiosity had been piqued. He lifted his arm and waited for the Commander to acknowledge him. When she noticed he had his hand raised she rolled her eyes (almost imperceptibly). "Yes, mage?"

He sent her the most enticing grin he had in his repertoire. Her lips curved downward in what could only be described as disapproval, however, her eyes belied her true reaction. He sat a mere three feet away from her, and while her stance was closed off to him, he saw her pupils dilate significantly as he held her gaze. "Commander, normally I would never question your decision-making, but why all the secrecy? Should we not be made aware of the details surrounding our new guest?"

"The details are none of your concern," the Commander replied sharply. "This issue is strictly 'need to know'."

Anders held up his hands in acquiescence.

"Does anyone else have any questions?" the Commander's inquiry was met with silence. "Good. I will be going into town tomorrow. This is my first time in Amaranthine and I would like to familiarize myself with its people. Would it be possible for one of you to accompany me? I know giving a guided tour is not something a Warden would—"

"I would be honoured to show you the city," Nathaniel offered. "I grew up here after all."

The Commander hesitated before replying. "Very well, we'll be leaving mid-morning. For the time being, you are all dismissed." She turned heel and left the room abruptly.

Sigrun turned to Oghren. "Is she always like this?"

"Give 'er a few days. She just needs to get used to leading again," Oghren replied.

Anders leaned back in his chair. This 'guest' of theirs was still on his mind. He needed to find out why her presence was being kept secret. He just had to make sure the Commander didn't catch him sticking his nose where it didn't belong.

* * *

Anders waited until he was sure that everyone was asleep. He slowly opened his chamber door and peaked out into the hallway. As he had expected, the hallway was deserted. He crept toward their guest's room. His heart hammered in his chest once he reached her (what did the Commander say her name was? Ahh yes, Charlotte) door. He was immediately greeted by a magical barrier, no doubt to ward off unwanted guests. The barrier was strong, but Anders made short work of it. Just as he was about to sneak in, he heard a voice coming from the other side of the door. He quickly realized that the girl was talking to herself, though he couldn't make out the words. Once he'd mustered up enough courage, he opened the door and stepped into the room making sure to shut the door behind him.

"This disorder is here by design. Insanity is sown in the soul. Sly words whispered by strangers infiltrate my careful control."

The girl – Charlotte – sat on her bed. She was facing away from him, rocking back and forth as words that bore no meaning spilled from her lips. Her hair was a beautiful shade of red, and it hung at her shoulders in loose curls.

"I was anchored in reality, but that iron is wrought with rust. My mind is lost to the wind, running away with the dust," she murmured.

Anders moved toward her, "Are you alright?" Her muscles stiffened at the sound of his voice. "It's alright, I just wanted to come by and introduce…" She slowly turned on the bed until she faced him. He inhaled sharply. It was obvious the girl had been tortured mercilessly. Bruises covered most of her face, though they had begun to fade. What concerned him most was the vicious scar that started at the corner of her mouth and continued upward until it met with the corner of her eye. He could tell from where he stood that the laceration had been deep. More than likely, her attacker used a serrated blade to saw through the flesh of her cheek, and then did a horrible job of sewing the skin back together. Despite the scar he could clearly see that she was quite beautiful. Her eyes were the colour of emeralds, and her lips were full and pillowy. Even though she was a touch too…zaftig for his tastes, he knew without a doubt that countless men would find her well-rounded figure irresistible. He motioned to the scar. "I can fix that if you-"

Her eyes darted back and forth, almost as though she was seeking a means to escape. "A voice in which emotion sharply ridiculed itself; a monstrously vigorous voice mockingly tearing a life with an unanswerable question..."

Anders took another step toward her, "I promise I won't hurt you." He reached out to squeeze her shoulder reassuringly, but before he made contact he was thrown backward by the strongest force he'd ever experienced. His back hit the hard, stone wall in the hallway. By the time he regained his wits, the girl had already slammed shut the door to her chambers. He slowly got to his feet while clutching his head. "Andraste's tits! What just happened?" _She's a mage, idiot!_ However, she wasn't like the mages in the Tower. Insane ramblings aside, she was quite possibly the strongest mage he'd ever encountered. He decided to retire to his chambers and reflect. Just who was this mage they were protecting? That and a dozen other questions were flowing through his mind. He turned in the direction of his room, only to find the Commander glaring at him, her violet eyes flashing.

"Mage," she hissed angrily. "What are you doing here?"

Anders swallowed audibly.

He was in deep shit.


End file.
